Fear
by Duckula Sunk My ROFLship
Summary: Canada yells the wrong name at the wrong moment, so Wales is pissed. Who is this mystery 'Eevon? Is Canada really cheating on Wales? Or is there a much more sinister explanation for it all...? Sequel to Buried Under Ten Feet of Snow.


_**~ An extract from the diary of Matthew Williams ~**_

_He did it again today. Just like the first time. But without the cuts and bruises this time. That things that show. I think he doesn't want anybody to know. He knows I'm too afraid to say anything. _

_He makes me say his name. The Russian pronunciation. It sounds like Eee-vahn. He doesn't make me say it for him, though. He makes me say it for me. I think he is trying to drill it into my brain that I am his. But I'm not. I'm my own country. I don't love him any more. I haven't loved him for centuries. I love Wales. _

***

I looked up from the hamburger I was making as Canada ran into the room, crying, wrapping a dressing-gown around himself. He sat down and stared at the table through blurry eyes. England quietly put his newspaper down. He poured some cereal and milk into a bowl and slip it along to Canada, along with a spoon. Canada picked up the spoon and watched his tears splashing into the milk.

"Well?" demanded Wales, running into the room as well. He also had on a dressing-gown, but had at least managed some pants. "Who is this Eevon?" Canada looked up at him, his mouth open as if to say something, and wiped his eyes clear on the back of his hand. He let out a silent breath, and looked back at the cereal. Wales started muttering something in his own tongue. I caught 'Eevon' twice. For a moment, England forgot the situation in his annoyance.

"How many times do I have to tell you _not_ to use that _ugly_ language?" he snapped.

"It's not ugly, it's beautiful!" Canada yelled at England, and Wales locked his eyes onto Canada's.

"What language does _Eevon_ speak, Canada?" he whispered, tears in his own eyes, and fled the room.

England sighed.

"We' better talk to them, I suppose," he said.

"All right, you talk to Wales and I'll talk to -"

"Why don't _you_ talk to Drywyd and I'll talk to Canada?" England's eyes flashed and I remembered how much he hated his brothers. I started walking out of the room and almost jumped out of my skin when I heard England ask,

"So do you want to tell me what happened?" I'd completely forgotten Canada was still in the room.

I found Wales in the living-room and sat down next to him.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" I asked him. He muttered something in Welsh and I shrugged. "It's your choice. I just wondered if I could help." There was a long silence.

"N-neither of us were able to sleep," he eventually said, his speech slowed and broken by sobs, "s-so we de-decided to -"

"I don't really need to know that part!" I interrupted quickly, "You did it, I get it!"

"W-w-well... Wh-when... H-he... H-he said someone el-else's name at the wro-wrong mo-moment!" he wailed, and started weeping onto my shoulder. "I do-don't even know who this 'Eevon' is! What do I do? How can I get Ca-Canada to like me again? I don't want to l-leave him, I l-love him so mu-much..." He fell into incoherence and I patted him awkwardly on the back.

I was discussing the matter in hushed voices with England back in the kitchen.

"I didn't think Canada was the sort of person who would cheat on his boyfriend," I explained.

"I didn't cheat on him!" Canada said, and started crying loudly.

"Is he still here?" I asked England incredulously, "I thought he'd gone to the bathroom or something!"

"Are you going to give us your explanation then?" England asked him, but Canada shook his head.

"I can't tell you." he said quietly.

"Canada, why don't you go get dressed?" I suggested, and he trailed out of the room.

"So you were saying?" England prompted.

"It just doesn't seem like something Canada would do." I slipped my arm around England's waist and pulled him closer. "He is my brother, after all," I continued, starting to tease his lips, "and I'm a _loyal hero..._" England grew tired of my games and kissed me properly, his hand rubbing my arm through my filthy jacket and his tongue _attacking_ mine.

***

_**~ Another extract from the diary of Matthew Williams ~**_

_For a moment I thought it was him. For a moment I thought he would kill me if I didn't say it. But a moment is all it takes to ruin the best that that had happened to me. _

***

Canada and Wales hadn't seen each other in a few days. We walked out from another meeting, during which I'd noticed that Canada had been fidgety and distracted, and had seemed a little distressed. I was about to go and talk to him, but England really wanted me, in the supply room, right then, and I was hardly going to refuse.

As we headed towards the exit afterwards, arm in arm, we heard a desperate scream.

"_EEE-VAHN!_" came Canada's voice. England and I glanced at each other, then rushed to the source of the voice. We saw Russia leave a room just as we arrived. He smiled down at us, amused about something. Then he walked away without a word.

We tentatively pushed open the door he had come out of and peered inside. What we saw was Canada sitting naked on the floor, his clothes scattered around him, red marks on his back, wrists and neck, tears streaming down his face. His shoulders heaved with racking sobs. We walked in and crouched down next to him. He looked up and I could see sharp fear in his eyes.

"Did that bastard just...?" I didn't need to finish my question. He nodded slowly.

We gathered up his clothes and gave them back to him. His shirt was ripped beyond repair, but he put it back on anyway.

"Why didn't you say anything?" England asked. Canada looked down at his feet.

"I'm afraid he'll kill me."

**Author's Note: **_It killed me to write 'pants' instead of 'trousers'. But when writing America's POV you have to do these things. _


End file.
